N A R P G (Naruto: A Role-Playing Game)
by Raven Blanchard
Summary: Nobody believes her, but Royce Oliver is certain that what killed her brother wasn't a random heart attack - it was the virtual reality game he was playing. NARPG, she remembered it was called. The Deluxe Limited Edition one that he got for free. Slipping on her OCULUS, Royce decides to play the game herself - and tries to unravel the mystery of her brother's death. SI/Self-Insert.
1. Real Virtuality

_"Everything you can imagine is real." ~Pablo Picasso_

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 _ **Real Virtuality**_

* * *

If there was one thing that made Royce Oliver hate her brother more than she already did, it was his death.

 _Heart attack_ , the overpaid and overweight coroner had said, then he added, _the technical term is myocardial infarction. Some of the arteries that supply the heart with blood get clogged up and the heart doesn't get enough oxygen so it sort of dies a quick death,_ and the man looked at her and her father patronizingly as if he were actually elucidating things for them when in fact he explained nothing at all. Heart attack. Myocardial infarction. What did it matter if the doctor said her brother had died of a _unicorn attack_? She'd still be no closer to _really_ understanding what happened to him, and he'd still be dead.

Because even if the official cause of Rollo Oliver's death was supposedly a heart attack, it didn't explain his last words:

 _"Royce… God, Royce… help me! The OCULUS, take it off! The game… it's… it's killing-"_

Anyway.

Thinking back on it, it was almost funny. Virtual reality games were supposed to give you _a shot at another life_. A _second existence_ , of sorts. It was the basis of their market. ' _Live another life in this fantastical world of so and so',_ and all that jazz. And now Rollo didn't have _any_ life at all, his existence snuffed out by a goddamned game that was supposed to give him _more_ of it.

Talk about irony.

The game killed him, of that she was absolutely certain. She didn't give a rat's ass what everyone else said. No healthy sixteen-year-old boy would have his heart suddenly give out on him, not if he didn't have any congenital heart malformations or the genetic predisposition for heart problems.

Unreal Engines (the company that created OCULUS) had of course cleared themselves of all blame, saying that there had never been any injuries or casualties at all recorded in the whole history of people using OCULUS devices. Although arguably the sample population had never been big to begin with, because not everyone can buy the ludicrously expensive OCULUS devices (OD's, they called them), but it still stood that nobody had ever been harmed by OD's in the history of _ever_. Nobody.

Only Rollo. And of course they would never admit any connection to _that_. The bastards didn't get rich by being stupid.

Unfortunately.

It was inevitable: her father lost the suit against Unreal Engines, and his wallet suffered quite a lot from it, since it wasn't nice to sue the company you were basically one of the owners of (although not quite, being a shareholder wasn't exactly like owning the company itself). Unreal Engines sued back for defamation and demanded a ridiculous amount of money for compensation, which led to Royce's father losing even more money. Not that Royce ever cared about that. Money was necessary to survive, yes, but any more than that was just luxury, which she had long decided was unnecessary. So she had no qualms about her father's fifty-something bank accounts being bumped down a million dollars or two. She'd lived and dressed like a hobo anyway, even back when she was still basically a multimillionaire princess.

So in the end the "official" story was that Rollo had died of a heart attack while playing a VR game on his OCULUS. The journalists and reporters went with the idea that because Rollo was an "avid gamer," he must have had a sedentary lifestyle. They'd all but called him a couch potato.

... Which Royce knew was complete and utter bullshit. There was no healthier - or more health conscious - sixteen-year-old in the _planet_ than Rollo Oliver. He jogged every morning. He ate stupid "healthy" food - salads and boiled chicken breasts and unsalted peanuts that Royce discovered long ago tasted like shit. He swam ten-ish laps in the olympic-sized pool in their backyard every night. He did triathlons for _fun_ , for crissakes.

Royce knew she shouldn't dwell on it. God knew how many head doctors – all her dad's friends, of course – had told her to do her best to move on, to live on, to just… get past the _misery_ of it all. And as much as it was the logical step to "move on," Royce just couldn't. At all. Not when Rollo's last words were so strange. Not when the biochemical tests to prove the diagnosis of a myocardial infarction were "inconclusive." Not when the last thing he ever said was a cry for help.

A cry for _her_ help.

With a shudder, Royce shook herself out of her morbid thoughts. In her hands was an OCULUS. Not the same one her brother had… well, _died_ in, this was her own device. OCULUS devices were expensive as hell – after all it was the pioneer in virtual reality platforms and the device where one can play N.A.R.P.G, the first five-sensory-input VR game ever – but since her father was a major shareholder of UNREAL ENGINES INC., the company that created the OCULUS and eventually N.A.R.P.G, he got a bunch of free OCULUS devices to test N.A.R.P.G. with. They even gave her dad this one chip of a limited edition version of N.A.R.P.G., which supposedly had in-game freebies.

Rollo, being the computer-savvy technogeek that he was, couldn't wait to try it out.

Unfortunately for him, that _freebie_ turned out to be his death.

Royce slipped the OCULUS over her head – the helmet-like device humming softly like an everlasting exhale – and before she could chicken out, she lay on the GELax (a gel bed side-purchase with the OCULUS, which was designed to ensure the safety of a person's body while playing a VR game), and switched the OCULUS on.

 **… OCULUS**

 **… OCULUS® is a registered trademark of Unreal Engines, registered in the US and other countries. The OCULUS logo, and other trademarks are the property of Unreal Engines. You may not use the logo or the logo's custom typeface for commercial purposes without the express permission of Unreal Engines.**

 **… Welcome|**

 **… (1) Programs available|**

 **…** ** _Naruto: A Role-Playing Game_** **selected|**

 **… Game start in 5|**

 **… 4|**

 **… 3|**

 **… 2|**

 **… 1|**

* * *

A/N: So... uh, I've noticed that in **a lot** of SI fics it's not really explained _**how**_ the main character gets transported to the Naruto world, exactly. They just... well, **DIE,** and all of a sudden they're reborn into it or placed in a toddler's body or something, which decidedly explains **NOTHING AT ALL ABOUT HOW THEY GOT THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE**. I mean, okay, so you die. Then your soul gets magically transported into the Naruto world. But HOW? The how of things is very important, y'all. Maybe this is just me being all anal-retentive or whatever,but I can't seem to take seriously SI fics in which the main character just completely dissociates from his/her previous life, where all of a sudden all that he/she gives a shit about are things related to the Naruto story... because THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN TO PEOPLE. SI characters who just stop giving a shit about the life they left behind are just **not realistic** , yo. Unless that character's just got a case of some serious _psychosis_ , that is. Or maybe the SI character was never meant to be realistic, such as in crack fics, in which case it's totally fine (because CRACK fics aren't meant to be taken seriously at all).

There you have it. My first-chapter-rant. Tell me what you think (in reaction to the first chappie or my note, whatever)! Reviews are puppies! (AND I WANT A FEW **HUNDRED** PUPPIES. JUST SAYIN'.)


	2. Ignus Fatuus

_"What is reality but the dreamworld of a limited imagination?" ~Robert Brault_

* * *

 **ONE**

 _ **Ignus Fatuus**_

* * *

There were simply no words.

It was impossible to _explain_ how it felt, or how it even seemed like, to be placed into a virtual reality game. Words were next to useless when it came to describing it. The event was was just too... much. It was vast and all-encompassing yet at the same time intimate and very, _very_ personal. The experience of being placed from one world to another, of her senses disconnecting and reconnecting and becoming something _else_ , of her perception and thoughts and her _reality_ being erased and rebooted like some computer program… it was just something that words cannot possibly express. It was disorienting and thoroughly disturbing in the most primitive way, because the cessation of thought, that little pause in awareness, however short it was, eerily resembled _death_. Or at least it resembled what she thought death must be like, she didn't really have any prior experience to compare it with. The horror she felt ( _after_ the fact, of course, since she couldn't have _felt_ anything during)... it was as old as time, and the disquiet was instinctive. Which was decidedly strange - she thought that having already lost half of herself (her twin brother Rollo) to death, she would have welcomed it with open arms. She wasn't suicidal in the slightest, and she never sought death, but she thought that by now she would at least be apathetic to it.

Which was definitely not the case.

The living do not wish for death - they never do, not really - as much as they might be fascinated by it.

While her consciousness (or lack thereof, it was impossible to describe) was being transported into virtual reality there had only been a vast nothingness, in which she felt nothing, thought nothing, and basically _was_ nothing. It wasn't like being asleep or unconscious, because when you were asleep there's this little hum of consciousness which this pre-game death-like state most certainly did not have, although nobody who hadn't died before would ever understand (which contributes to its unexplainability). She didn't know if all VR games had the pre-game death she'd just gone through or if it was just this one game, not having played any VR games before, but she hoped this didn't happen with all the other games. Or to anyone else, really. The thought that a bunch of kids and teenagers were encountering this momentary oblivion on a regular basis, and that it didn't faze them at all, was a terrifying thought.

As quick as it came, however, that nothingness was gone, and in its place was the realization that she was in a white hall - well, _in a white hall_ wasn't the exact description as the walls appeared to be made of a bright, luminescent material that only _seemed_ white, and she was certain that she wasn't really _in_ a hall and she was only in a mindscape of sorts - and right in the middle of that hall and only ten feet away from her, was a mirror.

 _Huh,_ she mused with a slight twitch of her lips. The mirror was familiar to her, gilded frame and all, although what exactly made it seem so eluded her mind.

Not knowing what to do, she cautiously approached the mirror - the only thing in the hall besides her naked self - the bare skin of her soles slapping the floor (which strangely enough felt neither warm nor cold). It only took a few steps yet it felt like a long march, her feet slowly growing heavier and her heart hammering faster and faster as she neared it.

It looked like an ordinary mirror, and it seemed to do what normal mirrors did. It reflected things. Royce tried not to cringe at her naked body's reflection.

 **"NARPG ni, purēyā o kangei shimasu."**

"GAH!" she yelped, jumping in her skin and looking around the hall for the source of the weird, disembodied male voice.

 **"Dobro pozhalovat' v NARPG , pleyer."**

"The heck?" another wary glance at the walls, as if they had been the ones that had spoken. The voice was the same male one, but he (it?) spoke fluent Russian too, it seemed like. "Anyone there? Computer-person? Hello? How do I do this game... thing?"

 **"Bienvenidos a NARPG, Jugador."**

 _Spanish this time?_ she thought incredulously. _Really now? And what's a Jugador?_

"Uh, hola?" she ventured uncertainly. "Hello? Speak in English, please? Me no speak-o Español."

 **"Bienvenue à NARPG, Player."**

Was that... _French_? "I said English, dammit! ENGLISH!" annoyed, she kicked the mirror and accidentally hit her toenail at its frame. Searing pain shot up her leg. "Ow, motherfucker!"

 **"Willkommen in NARPG, Spieler."**

She threw a baleful stare at the mirror in front of her. "I said English, you cyber-dickwad. Where the hell are the controls in this thing? I swear to God, if-"

 **"Welcome to NARPG, Player."**

Royce scowled. _That. That was_ definitely _intentional._

The mirror suddenly glowed neon blue, and then images of various national flags filled it. Taking it for the "Select A Language" choice that it was, she scanned through the flags until her eyes landed on the one she'd been looking for. Hesitantly, she pointed a finger at it and touched the mirror's surface.

 **"American English, selected."**

"Freaking finally," she muttered under her breath. "You stupid game."

 **"Please select your character's village of origin."**

"What?" she frowned. Where did the makers of this game get off, starting character creation with a _village_? What about a clan? Gender? Hair color and skin color? Eye color? Bone structure?

 _Oh well,_ she sighed. _I guess that sort of thing matters in a Naruto-based game._ She thinks back on the pages of Naruto she'd blazed through more than a couple dozen times. _Villages are like a religion in Naruto._

"I... uh, is there a list of villages I can choose from?"

A weird hologram-type thing suddenly popped up between her and the mirror. It was a map of the Elemental Nations, complete with minor villages and Zoom-In-Zoom-Out functions.

 _Let's see,_ she hummed thoughtlessly. Konohagakure no Sato (Village Hidden by Tree Leaves), or Konoha for short, was the more obvious choice. It was where the most pivotal events (and characters) were going to be at. Hell, it was the village where the Main Character lived. If there was one thing that guaranteed good chances at survival, it was being close to the main character. Not that it was the case for the Sandaime (third) Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, or the vast majority of the Uchiha Clan, but Royce's character won't be the Sandaime Hokage or an Uchiha, so there was that.

A quick touch in Konoha's general location highlighted the village.

 **"Village Hidden by Tree Leaves, selected."**

 _Oh God,_ Royce thought with an inward groan. _Don't tell me even the Japanese terms in this game will be translated too! That's so... insulting._ She could just imagine it: _The Akatsuki had missions across the Elemental Nations to hunt jinchuriki._ Akatsuki, translated into English, was "Dawn," (which didn't quite sound as badass) and jinchuriki literally meant "Power of Human Sacrifice."

The _Dawn_ had missions across the Elemantal Nations to hunt _powers of human sacrifice_.

Just thinking the sentence made her feel like a retard.

 **"Please select your character's clan."**

This time, she didn't need to ask for it - an alphabetical list of clans (along with their sigils) popped up and replaced the Elemental Nations map hologram:

 ** _Aburame_**

 ** _Akimichi_**

 ** _Hatake_**

 ** _Hyuuga_**

 ** _Inuzuka_**

 ** _Kohaku_**

 ** _Kurama_**

 ** _Nara_**

 ** _Sarutobi_**

 ** _Senju_**

 ** _Shimura_**

 ** _Uchiha_**

 ** _Uzumaki_**

 ** _Yamanaka_**

 ** _Civilian_**

 ** _Orphan (specifications necessary)_**

 _You can choose to belong to a civilian family?_ Royce thought, incredulous. _Ha. Fat chance anyone would choose_ that _._ Although she surmised being a civilian could be sort of useful, if only for the advantage of being a blank slate. Your character could be more... malleable, more undefined by set rules and technicalities. There was a freedom, she supposed, in that kind of personalization. Choosing to be a civilian would make the game more... realistic. You'd feel more _you_ if your new identity didn't involve overpowered dojutsus or doggie breath or shadow manipulation, since those things didn't exist in the real world. Sure, being part of a ninja clan was advantageous in its own way, but Royce understood the charm of being... well, human.

And if you became powerful anyway even without the genetic backing? Then that would be an effing glorious achievement.

Being an orphan might have similar pros and cons, though the whole _specifications necessary_ thing sounded downright boring. The _specifications_ probably had something to do with choosing who your parents would be, if you want to have ninja blood in you or not,if you wanted to be an Uchiha bastard or a Hyuuga bastard, whatever. She wasn't interested in being an Uchiha anyway. Or a Hyuuga, for that matter. Too much angst in those two clans.

She didn't need nor want angst. She just needed to do this as quickly, and easily, as possible. Finding out what happened to Rollo was the priority here, not fun and games. Not even full-immersion in this virtual ninja world. She just needed to enter this game, solve the mystery, and get the hell outta dodge. Virtual reality was creepy as heck.

"Aburame," she decided. Nobody she knew seemed to want to be an Aburame, for some reason. Not even Rollo. Her brother was ridiculously enamored by the magic of Uchiha eyeballs. He'd talk for hours about the possibilities if the Sharingan really existed in real life, medical texts that implied its existence, possible political impacts of the dojutsu in the real world. Royce even sometimes caught him doing the same Sharingan sales pitch while jogging with some neighbors. It amazed her sometimes how Rollo managed to be equal parts jock and nerd. He was a societal oxymoron.

 **"Aburame Clan, selected."**

 **"Please select insect breed for your character."**

"RINKAICHUU." she snarled before the list of insect breeds even popped up, feeling pissed for some reason. It was Rollo's fault, the dead jerk. Royce hadn't really thought of Rollo's life before now, obsessed as she was with his death. It was strange how the thought of her annoying brother laughing hurt her more than the thought of him in a coffin. Did she really hate him that much?

No, she did _not_ want to think about that.

She'd already long decided the traits of her character, the most basic of which included belonging to the Aburame Clan, hosting rinkauchuu, and being Shino's twin sister. Shino was an interesting character, and Royce missed being a sister.

 **"Phosphorus Destruction Insect Breed, selected."**

"Please don't translate _everything_ to English," she whined. She didn't want to have to call Naruto 'Cured Fish Surimi' whenever she talked to the guy.

 **"Please designate your character's relations in the chosen clan."**

A quick finger-tap (or _stab_ , as holograms were immaterial) on the image of what seemed to be the Aburame family tree, and she was now Aburame Shino's twin sister.

Apparently character appearances were game-generated if you chose a clan, since there was a certain genepool that you can inherit looks from. Royce donned a fierce scowl when the weird disembodied male voice boomed,

 **"Sorry, Character Appearance Customization is only available for Civilian or Orphan characters."**

"Then how the hell do I get to choose what my character would look like?"

The voice then went on a barrage of explanations in that eerily calm monotone of his, on how clan-member character appearances were randomly generated to avoid physical discrepancies and to further implement the game's realism, because two black-haired individuals with a long family history of the same coloring, couldn't possibly have a child with neon-green hair (Royce tuned out after Mendelian Laws of Heredity - she was a biology major and didn't need a _computer program_ to teach her anything about Mendelian Genetics, pfff).

Oh, well. It wasn't like aesthetics particularly mattered anyway, it wasn't like she was actually going to need her looks to get what she wanted. Wasn't like it should matter how she looked like to virtual characters. Only Rollo mattered.

Besides, who needed looks when you had the world's fate in your head? Who needed beauty when you - by all intents and purposes - knew the future?

Before playing the game, Royce took it upon herself to study as much as she could about the universe it was based on. She read the Naruto manga, she watched the Naruto animes (and movies),and she even read the Naruto Wikis. After Rollo's death, Royce studied everything related to the Naruto franchise with an almost angry passion. Personally she didn't really care for the story - it seemed more like mental masturbation than anything else, what with the characters in it saying each fight move that they did _while they did it_ (seriously, the redundancy was ridiculous), but she knew she had to know every single facet of it, every nook and cranny and angle, every important event and all the major players in them, all the turning points and the vital actions. It was more paranoia than anything else that compelled her to all but memorize the story, but she kept getting the feeling that there was some serious danger in NARPG. She had doubts about that, of course. It could actually have been the OCULUS that killed Rollo, and not the game installed in it. It could have been an allergic reaction to the OCULUS-designed neurotoxin that induced a sleep-like muscle flaccidity (because you can't have your real body moving as you moved in the virtual world, can't have your body act out swordfights as you experience them in a game - that would be like a twisted version of miming an ax murderer or something), but what Rollo said before he died... what he screamed, implied that there was something happening in the game.

Something that Royce wanted - and dreaded - to find out.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright, I suck. Two chapters in and she's not even in NARPG yet! But I've been told that I write too little and too fast (I have another FF account that I don't plan on _ever_ showing you guys because MY FICS THERE SUCK ASS, and my reviewers there all told me that I jumped the gun far too often), so I think here on NARPG I'll work on details and thought processes and... well, _more words_.**

 **Also, there might be some grammatical/typographical errors in this one. I don't have a beta, and I'm just too much of a Nara (read: "lazy") to actually read my own work over and over again just to check for typos. Seriously, y'all, what's the damn point? Typos are living creatures that procreate anyway, because I wrote this one fic before (in my other account) where I could have _sworn_ that there were only two or three typos when I posted it, then when I randomly wanted to spell-check it I FOUND LIKE A MILLION MORE.**

 **And I was just like, HOW.(O_O)**

 **Anyway, tell me what you think!**

 **-Raven**


	3. Trompe L'oeil

_"A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions." ~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr._

* * *

 **TWO**

 _ **Trompe L'oeil**_

* * *

As Royce pondered the meaning of life over a virtual bottle of virtual baby milk formula, a memory came to mind unbidden - a memory of a song she'd heard once about a girl named Tennessee.

Because as much as Royce was now stuck in a newborn infant's body and had tons of time to ruminate more intellectual and philosophical concepts over bottle-feeding sessions and diaper changes, she still _cannot_ get over the fact that she was almost a girl named Shit. Granted, the name was more _Shito_ than it was Shit, and it wasn't like _Shit_ meant anything in Japanese, but still. It sounded close enough. She was almost a girl named Shit. It was, simply put, unbelievable. It didn't help matters that the game was set to English and not Japanese, so it really would've seemed like her name was Shit whenever people ( _imaginary characters_ , she keeps reminding herself) spoke to her.

Royce vastly preferred being named Tennessee over being named Shit. In fact, now that she's at it, she wouldn't terribly mind being named Idaho. Or Ohio, come to think of it. Punny names were better than shitty ones.

Her musings would seem ridiculous to anyone else, she was sure - because what brand of idiot would think about virtual baby names, of all things, while stuck (very _very_ stuck) in a virtual baby-body in a virtual world that _almost certainly killed_ her not-virtual brother?

Surely there were more important things to think about. Like, oh, the fact that she was apparently stuck in the body of a baby that _wasn't even real_ , and had been for months. Or the sheer creepiness of the sensation of bugs crawling just beneath her skin, weaving through her blood vessels and around muscles. Or the fact that entry into the game apparently involved the experience of being born into it — as in pushed-out-of-a-woman's-womb kind of born. Yeah, she could think about all those things.

But to be honest, she was _done_ with the mentally taxing activity that was reliving the moment she was squeezed out of some woman's privates. Like, she was so done with it that it wasn't even funny. And the bugs were okay once she got used to them. Kind of cool, actually, in that weird hey-look-I've-got-a-moving-pimple-it-must-be-a-bug kind of way. Seeing her bugs form random lumps on her skin wasn't nearly as disturbing as being born into the game. Not that she thought about that experience much.

The novelty birth - of the horror and confusion and _panic_ caused by being born into this virtual reality - wore off after a couple of days. It was difficult to _not_ confront reality (or the bastardization thereof) when you very literally cannot crawl - much less _run_ \- away from it.

But she's getting ahead of herself.

* * *

In Aburame Shirayuki's very humble opinion, birth, as she was sure many other newborn babies would agree, was singularly the most horrifying event anyone ever had to experience - nevermind that nobody ever remembered being born - and she'd much rather die ( _again_ , sort of) than go through those choking, drowning, spinning, _strangling_ hours once more. Add to that the fact that she would have been named after "shit" had she been a boy, then her opinion on rebirth in general became a resounding "I'd like to _never_ come out of anyone's vagina ever again, thank you very much. On another note, I also dislike these shitty names I keep getting."

Admittedly, _Royce_ was more of a badass name than _Shito_ would have been (because seriously, who named their kids something that sounded like _Shit_?), but it was still a boy's name and therefore categorically shitty.

When the Aburame twins were born on the twenty-third of January, their parents already had names in mind. A few months before, the doctor had attested that Aburame Kaho was carrying twins, and after a following check up which "confirmed" that the twins were male (the doctor had in fact only checked for the gender of _one_ twin), the couple quickly came up with names for them. So it was that the twins were to be named Shino and Shito. Or as the case may be, Shino and almost-Shito.

After a few gruelling hours of labor the first twin was born, and he was named Shino.

And when the second twin came out, the doctor gaped.

"It's... It's a girl," he sputtered uselessly. "An albino."

"I want..." Kaho said, her eyes glazed over, "I want..."

"Doctor, she's bleeding out!" said the doctor's assistant, her eyes wide and alarmed.

"Get me blood pills!" The doctor barked, snapping out of his momentary stupor. He handed the female infant over to Shibi and promptly began channeling his chakra into a blade at the tips of his fingers. "Hurry! And where are those blood bags I asked for ten minutes ago?"

"I'll get the blood pills," one nurse said hurriedly. "The blood bags are on the left wing. Blood bank. B-negative. Someone should get them." And she left, leaving behind another nurse whose face was pale and panicked.

"I will procure the blood bags," Aburame Shibi, Kaho's husband, volunteered. He gently squeezed Kaho's trembling hand, transferred his newborn daughter into the second nurse's hands, nodded to the doctor, and swiftly left the room.

"His name will be Shito," Kaho told the doctor. "My husband and I decided on his name before he was born."

"But the child is a-"

So there. Almost-Shito.

Months later, Shirayuki and her twin Shino would be told stories by their father about how their mother rather hilariously almost gave Shirayuki a boy's name. _Shito,_ he'd tell them. Then he'd gently pat Shirayuki's snow-white locks. _Your name would have been Shito._

Not that Shirayuki didn't know. Not that she would ever tell her father that she knew.

None of this shit was real, after all.

* * *

 **A/N: I thought this chapter's a bit short at first. Like, I kept getting the feeling that I should add more, but eventually I got the notion that it should end just the way I wrote it. With that note of bittersweet cynicism that I aim to make a trademark of Royce's personality. Also, I'm unsure if I should make use of a living Kaho to give an image of a family to the Aburame household, or if I should just, like, _kill_ her, because that would ensure drama (not that Royce n** **eeds any more of that shit, the whole thing started with a downright tragedy). Maybe you guys (and girls) would help me decide?**

 **And I am so sorry for the super late update. It's just... there are so many things I want to put in this fic that it all just got mushed up inside my head and I lost track of my plans for this story and then life happened and basically I had a bad case of writer's block with real-life-itis. Things just sucked all around. But I'm back! And I WILL try to be a more reliable author because OH MY GOD I SAW LIKE TEN MILLION AWESOME FANFICS THAT WERE UNDER INDEFINITE HIATUS AND I JUST DIED INSIDE LIKE TEN MILLION TIMES.**

 **Anyway, tell me what you think!**

 **PS: I NEED A BETA! If anyone is interested in being my beta, just PM me.**


End file.
